Five steps forward, five steps away, five steps back
by DawnSpider2359
Summary: In which Issiki Iroha mulls over the nature of her relationship with two different Senpais despite being freshly rejected by one. Hachiman, being Hachiman, does not help. Rated T for indirect hand holding.
1. Chapter 1

Senpai has a focused look about him and I reflexively step away because horrible, _horrible_ things brew in his mind when he makes that face. Ideas of coercing our partner school into funding an entire collaborative Christmas event, for example. Or ideas of preparing food for said event by ourselves to cut costs. Worst of all, ideas of delegating this task to Yuigahama-senpai by virtue of her love for baking.

He whips around to face me with an expression of genuine self-satisfaction. "So basically, what you're saying is that humans are banal creatures driven by avarice, and that taking advantage of this will be profitable in the long run."

The hallway is silent save for our muffled footsteps and the chirping of sparrows outside.

"How's that?" he sneers, then to add a little extra fuel to the metaphorical fire he sallies forth with, "Your face says I'm right."

I contort my face to display the most condescending expression I can muster which, unfortunately, has long lost its intended effect on him. "I said we should do something for the elementary schoolers to thank them for their help in the Christmas event-"

"-and in so doing incentivise them to offer their services the next time we need expendable manpower, right?"

There is something about the way he mouths the phrase _expendable manpower _which commands my disdain: a society managed by people like Senpai would either cease to function or function too well_. _Ominous as this sounds, either particular future is improbable; people like Senpai wouldn't touch anything leadership-related with a ten foot pole.

My stare freezes over in a way that even a dense block like him can understand, and the smug look on his face disappears as quickly as it surfaced. "You're suggesting that I take advantage of _elementary schoolers_."

"Ah, um, well. You know. Pretty much everything you do has an ulterior motive, so I thought, uh."

I'm not too sure what kind of expression he sees on my face, but it shuts him up. "You're suggesting that I'm the _kind of person_ to take advantage of elementary schoolers."

"Not at all. Not in the slightest. Wouldn't dream of it."

Irritated, I release a huff which takes form in the frigid air. "What are you thinking, insulting a delicate girl like that? That's the death penalty for you."

He snorts. "We're in Japan, you know."

"A lifetime sentence of bachelorhood, then."

"That'll happen on its own."

We spend the walk across the school courtyard in comfortable silence. Failing to maintain a conversation is equivalent to social suicide in high school; I have spent months studying and practicing in front of a full-body mirror to prevent it from happening to me, but when I'm with Senpai there just isn't any motivation for me to drag it on. One could even say that, to a certain extent, I have grown to dislike such meaningless conversations. It's amazing what loners can do.

Admittedly, being able to simply watch someone unchain his bicycle without the pressure of having to start a conversation is a blessing.

But it is only when the school gate comes within view that I realise, with a jolt of horror, that this five minutes of absolute silence will be our last interaction of the day. My horror intensifies alongside the realisation that Senpai is probably completely fine with this.

Desperately, I clear my throat. (Daintily, just like a cute girl should.) "Say, Senpai. How long are we doing this for?"

"About thirty metres more, by the look of it," he says blandly. His tone is wilfully sarcastic, but I can see the badly-concealed confusion on his face without even looking. "That's what we agreed on."

Lightly, I punch his shoulder. "I meant in general."

"Oh."

Thanks to the Service Club's assistance the collab Christmas event went off without a hitch, but the main problem came the day after. Perhaps my mind had been too occupied by my own romantic conquest to notice, but there had been something very wrong with the Student Council's team dynamic all along.

A couple.

Not that I had anything against Vice-prez and Secretary-chan _individually_, of course. But dating within the Student Council was... well. You just didn't do it unless you had absolutely no regard for... you just didn't do it.

On the other hand, the Service club constituted two young maidens in love and a boy who was trying his utmost to avoid a harem ending. It was the most youthful, romcom-esque scenario anyone could think of: the type Senpai hates with every fibre of his being.

Our objectives aligned nicely, so a sort of partnership had been born.

"It's your call, I guess," Senpai concludes after thinking for a few moments. "I don't know how this is helping you with your issues, but I'll have to face Yukinoshita and Yuigahama at some point anyway. We'll stop whenever you want to."

I sigh dramatically. "How hopeless. You should be using your guy friends for this kind of thing instead of dragging a pure maiden into your wily schemes..."

"You're just as guilty," he retorts. "And Totsuka is 80000 times purer than you. No way I'm using him for this."

We walk in silence.

"...This is the bit where you give the 'You have friends?' retort. Don't leave people hanging like that."

I flash a stunned expression. "Ah, I didn't mean to. I was genuinely surprised."

"You can afford to be a little less cruel about it, you know," he groans. "Is it really that surprising that there are people that I consider friends?"

I give him a wry smile, taking pleasure in the miserable glare he returns me. "It's surprising that there are people who would hang out with you in the first place..."

"But you're-"

"...Without any sort of ulterior motive."

"Ah."

We've reached the school gate faster than expected. Semi-reluctant to let him off the hook, I turn to face him. "This Totsuka person... Senpai, are both of you close?"

He chokes in response, and a blush tinges his cheeks for some weird reason. "It's... it's complicated."

I deadpan. "Unrequited love?"

"Like I said, it's complicated. We're supposed to be friends but we don't really act like it-"

"Then what is he to you?"

Senpai eyes me suspiciously; it _is _a strange question, after all. But I know that all he can see is a wide, innocent smile. "How I view Totsuka? Well, it's probably the same as how a lonely priest views... uh..."

"A really attractive lady?"

"An angel."

He declares this with such devout certainty that I giggle uncontrollably (not _completely _uncontrollably, of course; God forbid I do anything unladylike like snorting), and his eyelids flicker in annoyance. "Laugh all you want, but that's our relationship in a nutshell. I am of the opinion," here his chest puffs out subconsciously, a sign of an incoming monologue: "that interpersonal relations which regular people form are shallow and farcical. No matter how meaningfully these relationships are portrayed, it's all just self gratification in the end-"

"Ten words or less, please," I say.

He gives me an affronted look. "In short, what society defines as normal relationships are not worth having."

That may be so, but the nature of the relationships Senpai defines as being 'worth having' seem a tad too abnormal for me.

"Then... what am I to you, Senpai?"

Wide, innocent smile.

I can almost see his thoughts from where I'm standing - notably _oh crap she planned this from the start _and _can this junior possibly be even more devilish than she already is_ \- but I'm not that calculative, really.

This is probably one of those 'heat of the moment' things. In fact, I already regret asking.

Senpai clears his throat after a long pause, his face still red (thanks, Totsuka-san). "I'd say an anno-"

"You wouldn't dream of saying anything along the lines of 'An annoying junior', would you, _Senpai_?"

"A junior I accompany to the school gate every da-"

"And no half-assed answers."

Defying the laws of physics (and possibly biology), his dead-fish eyes narrow to slits. "A wonderful individual whom I greatly admi-"

"No sarcasm!"

Senpai's groan of exhaustion prompts me to widen my smile even further. It can't be that hard to tell what I'm getting at, right? Meaningless as the question may be, I want an honest answer.

"To me, you're you," he says, finally. "Isshiki Iroha. And that's it."

Along the path ahead, street lamps flicker to life.

"...What's with that annoyed face?"

I huff. "You thought for that long and that's all you could come up with?"

"If shallow affirmation is what you want, go ask someone else." He grunts, preparing to mount his bicycle. "You can't expect me to know all the politically correct answers, anyhow."

Upon getting into a comfortable position he turns to face me; maybe he finds my (rare) silence off-putting. "See you tomorrow, I guess. And I meant what I said."

"Mm? About what?"

"I don't care if we stop this whole... arrangement anytime you want, so there's no need to force yourself to do anything you're... uncomfortable with. Not that I care either way-"

Yup. This is definitely the kind of person he is. Geez. Is it that hard to say what you're thinking for once?

Well, not that I'm one to talk.

"Senpai..."

"Ah?"

"Don't be silly."

The evening cold gnaws at my fingertips and I shove my hands into my sweater, clenching them tightly for good measure.

There is a sort of inexplicable tension hanging in the air. Maybe another wide, kouhai-level smile will break it, but I'm just as stunned as he is.

They're tricky, these 'heat of the moment' things. Maybe I should have prepared for this kind of thing more...

"R-right. See you, then."

Fortunately, Senpai is the first to flee.

As his bicycle disappears into the horizon I absentmindedly pivot around on my left heel and head for the station, rolling the words from before around in my mouth like a mantra.

"Just Isshiki Iroha, huh..."

That doesn't sound _too _bad.


	2. Chapter 2

"Isshiki-san, you've really been getting along with Hikigaya-san recently."

I spare my growing pile of paperwork nothing more than a quick glance, for paperwork is temporal and does not merit consideration, and swivel around to look at Secretary-chan's bashful face.

"Ye-esss," I prod cautiously. "So is that an observation, or..."

"Oh, I wasn't really implying anything!" She flushes beet red and I nod internally. Bashful airhead is definitely the Vice-President's type. Not that I'm familiar enough with him to know, but he looks like the kind of guy who would have that kind of taste.

The heart of man is like glass; view it from a fresh angle and the light presents it in a different way. The fetishes of man, however, are indisputably opaque. Source: Senpai.

In any case, having an excuse to distract myself from work is a blessing. I lean back in my chair, a clear signal for Vice-prez to relieve me of half my workload on account of the fact that I am not touching paper anytime soon, which he begrudgingly does. "It's not like we get along especially well, I think. Does it look that way to you?"

Secretary-chan looks surprised, as if I've asked about her distant ancestors. The analogy is amusingly ironic, considering how I can't even be bothered to remember her family name. "Of course! You two are always on the same wavelength, or whatever you call it... during the meetings for the Christmas event planning, especially. I've been wanting to ask this for a while, but are both of you dating?"

Three whole seconds of stunned silence pass us by before she interjects again with a panicked "I-I guess not! I'm so sorry, Isshiki-san-"

"It's fine," I say.

Me? Dating that guy? That one with the dead eyes? But he's hopeless and tactless. He slouches when he walks and when he sits and probably when he lies down. And his eyes are dead. Definitely not boyfriend material. Not to mention his eyes are dead. He probably doesn't want a girlfriend, anyway. Also, his eyes are dead.

One thing I can't help but notice, however, is that she addressed him with proper honorifics. That's only right; normal people do address each other that way. But it feels alien to me nonetheless because I've never addressed him with his name, ever. The realisation hits me like a kilogram of feathers.

Friends, elders, seniors, even the guy I liked: I have always taken pride in memorising names and labels (the ones that matter, anyway). But Senpai has always just been Senpai. If we're not dating, we're not friends and we're not blood-related...

Try as I might, I can't recall any type of relationship that involves walking to the school gate together every day and nothing else.

"O-of course, you don't have to be dating to hang around each other..." Secretary-chan bravely pushes on, completely confused about how to proceed. I can't blame her; all of a sudden I have realised that I feel the exact same way.

From the corner of the Student Council's meeting room, Vice-Prez has sense his loved one's distress like a good boyfriend should, and is glaring at me over his mountain of paperwork (half of which is supposed to be mine) like a good boyfriend should. Maybe this is what relationships are for; to give you a set of actions to follow and save you the trouble of thinking about how to act around others.

Or maybe, I've been spending so much time around Senpai that his rotten way of thought process is now thoroughly ingrained into mine. It's frustrating and I want to take it out on somebody - very much preferably Senpai, which is a cause for frustration in and of itself - but he's not here.

"There isn't much to say, honestly. We just get along," I conclude lamely. This insight doesn't quite merit the time taken to consider it, but a lot of things are at stake if I continue to entertain these thoughts. My sanity, for starters. Then more importantly, my mood.

"You should definitely consider dating, though!" Secretary-chan gushes. Evidently, she is the kind of person who would prod a freshly-awakened bear a second time just to see the first prod's worth of action. "High school romances are fleeting, after all!"

I blink. "Wouldn't that be an incentive not to date anyone?"

"Of course not!" she exclaims. "It's because it could disappear anytime that you have to grab it while it still lasts!"

Ah. The kind of thinking Senpai loathes with a passion.

"That's just, like, completely irrational," I retort. "Anyway, we're not like that!"

From across the room, Vice-prez shoots the two unproductive and rowdy members of the Student Council a stern glare, but his heart isn't really in it; one has him on a tight leash and the other is the Student Council President.

I stab at her with my index finger. "Anyway, going by that way of thinking you're in a relationship that's bound to end! Ever thought of that?"

"Of course!" Earnestly, Secretary-chan plants both her hands on my desk. Loudly. "But it never stopped me, did it?"

"That makes no sense at all!"

"It doesn't have to!"

"Huh?!"

Across the room, Vice-prez resigns to his cruel fate and nurses his ears.

I can't imagine it: going into a relationship faced with the near certainty that it will never carry out its full course. What's the point in that? What part of it is genuine?

Even so... she sure looks happy enough.

"I think our views are different, and that's just fine," Secretary-chan says, as if reading my thoughts. Then she winks conspiratorially. "But just between you and me... being short-lived is what makes a relationship romantic, don't you think?"

Beyond the names and labels, people have a level of depth that can't be deciphered; this is something that I learn more about with each passing day.

**Author's Note: My writing speed is a little faster than 900 words a month, don't worry. The plot will come eventually... or will it?**


	3. Chapter 3

"People think we're dating," I say.

Senpai gives me a shifty sideways look, no doubt birthing an internal monologue to speculate my intentions and going all the way back to the human condition in typical Senpai fashion.

"You mean, one or two people observed that we hang around each other often and mentioned it to you in passing."

Ugh, bullseye. "You're such a bore," I sigh, flashing my signature pout. As expected, he glares harder instead. "You can afford to react a little more, you know. What would happen to your reputation if people thought you were dating a cute kouhai way out of your league?"

His reply comes in the form of a grunt which suggests that he is very proud of himself for not reacting a little more. "Going by that reasoning, it's you who should be worried. I have much less to lose than you from that kind of rumour."

"Riiiight," I jab back. "You have no social standing to speak of, after all."

The comfortable silence resumes and I wait a full fifteen seconds before speaking up again. After every clump of dialogue there is always a clip of time like this where we internally prepare ourselves for the next one. What exactly are we bracing ourselves for during these lulls in the conversation? Fifteen seconds, lengthy as it feels, is too short for me to find an answer.

"So, I was thinking!" I chirp, injecting as much genuine-sounding cheer into my voice as is humanly possible and earning one of Senpai's trademark tired glares for all my effort. What an ungrateful guy. "And I think I've figured out why Hayama-senpai rejected me the other day!"

"You still aren't over that?" he sighs, with an expression which indicates the desire to be elsewhere in this present moment. Guys probably don't like it when their attractive female kouhai talks to them about other guys, so I suppose I can understand.

But at least I'm trying to start a conversation. Somebody has to do it, y'know. "And, I figured that it was the way I phrased my confession that turned him off!"

Senpai coughs lightly. " Well. I wasn't there so I wouldn't know, but I'm pretty sure he had other reasons."

I blink. Senpai seldom speaks with certainty (unless flaunting his own ideals), so anything that begins with 'I'm pretty sure' can usually be interpreted as fact. "Is that so?"

"Yes," he says, voice dripping with something that sounds like guilt. "He- I'm sure your confession made him happy."

...Is this guy trying to pull my leg?

Just in case he actually is, I show him the most unimpressed expression I can muster. "Should've accepted it, then."

"Yeah, well."

He looks uncomfortable for some reason. Does he still feel responsible for the whole thing happening?

Maybe he has talked to Hayama-senpai about it already.

Right. They're in the same class and all. And boys talk about these kinds of things all the time, don't they? I wouldn't be surprised if they discussed my confession. In full length.

"Oi, Isshiki."

No, no. Senpai's not that kind of person. Hayama-senpai too, of course. Hayama-senpai being a good guy is a given. But I just can't imagine Senpai doing this kind of thing, even though talking behind people's backs is just part of human nature...

"Isshiki?"

...He wouldn't do this kind of thing, right? He's nice to the people he likes. Like the Service Club Senpais. And his little sister.

But what about Isshiki Iroha?

"Isshiki. Hiratsuka-sensei's getting married next week."

The sheer outrageousness of this statement snaps me out of my reverie. "Huh, oh. Congratulations."

"That was a joke. And don't immediately assume it's to me."

"I mean, I figured you would be the only one desperate enough-"

"You're horrible, you know that?"

Like you're one to talk.

"Anyway!" I bring my hands together loudly (in an endearing way, of course. No point if it doesn't look cute). "Like I was saying, help me practice for my next confession, Senpai!"

"You were saying nothing of the sort. And you're trying again? After that spectacular failure?"

"It wasn't a failure!" Repeatedly, I jab his exposed midriff with my gloved index finger and ignore his pathetic yelps. "I mean, maybe it was, but it was all within the boundary of my calculations. Now I just need to make Hayama-senpai fall for me in an even more romantic way!"

"You're doing a great job," Senpai groans, arms wrapped protectively around his sides. "I'll be rooting for you from the sidelines. On an unrelated note, I just remembered I left something in the clubroom, you can go on ahead-"

"Hold it right there!" I yell. His abdomen is completely covered, so I remove my glove and poke the nape of his neck instead, earning an undignified squawk for all my effort. "You said you'd take responsibility for what happened!"

"If I did, I definitely regret it now," he sputters. "And your fingers are freezing! Are those gloves even doing their job?"

"Of course! Aren't they adorable?"

"That's the criteria you use for picking gloves?"

"Don't change the subject, you sly fish."

"You mean fox, right?" he sighs. "Fine, then. What kind of help do you want?"

"Easy!" The sun is setting now, its rays a brilliant hue of red. The courtyard is completely empty save the two of us. It would make for a fairly romantic mood, under different circumstances. "I'll be practising my confession on you right now. All you need to do is stand over there..."

"I see. I guess I have to offer criticism and stuff like that afterward?"

"Uh... no. Just stand there."

He grunts in his usual disagreeable way, but shuffles obediently onto the spot that I have pointed out nonetheless. "How're you gonna improve without feedback?"

"Who said anything about improving? I'm practising."

"...I'm starting to think it wasn't the confession that turned him off per se..."

"Ah, shuddap. Anyway, I'll start!"

Confessions must be sincere, which is why simply being yourself is the best attitude to have: the people who hold this opinion dear have no idea what they are talking about. If people judge the character of others from even the first impression, the impression drawn from a confession must surely be much more significant.

Make sure he faces you, with the setting sun in the background. Stand straight, but not too stiffly. Twist your body like so. Smile slightly and nervously. Ensure that your face is red. Inhale deeply to show him just how much this means to you, but not too deeply. When you have his full attention, clasp your hands together and, with a bashful yet resolute voice, say these exact words-

"Wait, Isshiki. Before you start-"

"I started a long time ago! You weren't watching?"

He blinks, genuinely confused. "But you haven't said anything yet."

Unbelievable.

"Anyway," he says, "Your cutesy gloves are pissing me off. Do something about them, will you?"

Wow, rude. "And why do I have to cater to your preferences?"

"You never know," he replies, somewhat smugly. "Maybe Hayama dislikes flashy designs. You have to adapt to his tastes, right?"

He's enjoying this, this jerk. Acting all high and mighty and pretending to know it all just because he's Hayama-senpai's classmate. "Well, your gloves look boring enough," I retort. "Why don't you lend them to me, then?"

Surprisingly, he hands them over with little complaint.

The sun's rays are beginning to recede; thanks to that digression, the perfect romantic mood is already fading back to whence it came. As I tug on Senpai's ridiculously woolly gloves, a niggling thought scratches at the back of my mind: maybe all this effort isn't worth it after all.

Nevertheless, I have to try.

Setting sun, check... barely. Appropriate body language, check. Now all that's left is the perfect expression, that of a maiden in love, and then...

"Hayama-senpai! I know that you had your own reasons for rejecting me the last time, but-"

"That's an out, y'know."

Aaaand... ruined. "At least let me finish! You didn't even let me start!"

Senpai sighs. I'm not too sure if the disappointment on his face is genuine or not, which irks me even more. "That way of confessing was wrong from the start."

"Besides, you're not supposed to talk. I did tell you to just stand there, right?"

"Hayama's not going to just stand there if he doesn't like your confession, right? He'll reject you outright. I'm helping you out here."

As irritating as this situation is, it certainly beats awkward silence. "Alright, then. What does this veteran suggest?"

"Something direct," Senpai says after a few seconds of musing. "Short and snappy. I'm sure Hayama has girls confessing to him every other day. He'll appreciate it if you are considerate of his precious time."

There is a kind of messed-up quality to his thoughts regardless of how constructive he tries to be with them. "But that's exactly why I have to be the special one who-"

"That's what all of them are thinking too. Get ahead of the curve, Isshiki."

The sun has concealed itself behind the clouds and the romantic mood is now a thing of the past, but I have to get this confession right at the very least. If even this sleazebag doesn't accept it, how can I expect Hayama-senpai to?

"Um, Hayama-senpai! I was thinking that I'd like to know you more, and-"

"Nope. Shorter."

"I think we've known each other for quite a while and-"

"Not untrue, but you're sounding really presumptuous."

"I would like to date with marriage in mind, but if you're not fine with that-"

"What are you, an old man? Get to the point already."

I can feel a headache coming on. In an attempt to dispel the impending pain I march over the partially frozen cobblestone and give Senpai's left shin a swift kick. A very un-Senpai-like screech assaults my eardrums.

"You're just being plain unreasonable!" I snap before he has the chance to squawk at me. "There is nothing wrong with any of the statements I made!"

"While that may be true," he groans, "they aren't what you want to say, are they? Come on. Just do this right once and we can go home."

Does he even know how hard this is? I can feel my breaths getting shallower with frustration. "Fine then. I'll say everything I want to say, right here and right now!"

"That's the spirit. Seven words or less, please."

Kicking his injured shin again seems to be too cruel a punishment, so out of the kindness of my heart I kick his right shin instead.

"I like you," I say over his whimpers. "Go out with me."

"That's good," he wheezes, bent double and clutching his legs. "That wasn't so hard, was it? If you confess quickly, Hayama can reject you quickly."

"...So I'm getting rejected either way?"

I consider gracing him with a third kick, but there's something about that crude statement of his that hits too close to home. Suddenly I feel exhausted. What was the point of all this, anyway? Wordlessly, I trudge towards the main gate, and he joins me with bicycle in tow.

"Er. Are you angry?"

"Just tired," I reply. Thin ice crackles beneath my feet. "Confessions really aren't what they're made out to be."

"Good thing you realised," he chuckles. Though since this is Senpai the chuckle sounds more like a sneer; it takes true discernment to tell the difference. "I thought that one just now was pretty good, though. It sounded like you were being honest with yourself."

If he is trying to cheer me up, he is doing a terrible job. "You make me sound like a sadist."

"Well..."

"Shut up."

Upon reaching the gate I chuck his stupid-looking gloves at him and head off toward the station without looking back-

"Oi, Isshiki."

Senpai starting a conversation is certainly a rare event, but I'm really not in the mood for conversing. Without sparing him a glance, I-

"Isshiki."

Reluctantly, I turn to face him. For some reason the sun has decided to reveal itself again now of all times, its rays painting the frozen sidewalks with a pretty orange tinge. Effectively, the romantic mood that I spent so much effort to achieve just prior to this has restored itself.

This setting is completely useless now. As much as one may manipulate and scheme, I realise with a jolt, it is ultimately the people involved that make a confession work.

"Same time tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah."

The sting of cold assaults my hands a mere five steps after I don my own gloves, and it is then that I realise how warm my hands have been.


End file.
